The Enchanter and Apprentice
by Hebbe484
Summary: The great enchanter Merlin begins to train his newly discovered apprentice. However, once the greatest discovery of man is inadvertantly uncovered, can Merlin explain to his apprentice the necessity of secrecy?


_The Enchanter and Apprentice_

His hand brushed the cooling stone as they made their way up the spiraling staircase. His companion followed in step behind him as her footsteps echoed and reverberated through the dank air. Age had hunched the man over, but the youth showed an enormous sign of patience as he hobbled back and forth up the stone, the clink of beads on the youth's shawl keeping in time with the rhythm of the climb. It wasn't a large one, the climb; but the creaks in his knees and hips tended to scream in opposition. Today, however, was a good day.

Around and around they spiraled absent words. The staircase itself hugged the side of the stone turret. The cylinder tower measured approximately ten meters in diameter and reached three stories tall, apparently the height of the landing they made for. At the end of the staircase, the floor of the landing opened just enough for a single person to walk through without the hem of their sleeves brushing the edge of the opening.

Once through the landing, the turret opened into a circular walkway of stain-glass windows depicting creatures and heroes of myth in vibrant hues of red, blue, and green. The walkway circled around an inner chamber a bit smaller in circumference than the staircase.

Leading the youth, the elderly man shuffled around to the opposite side of the circle, splashes of color seeping into the wrinkles of his cheeks and the curls of his beard. As they turned the corner (if such a thing is possible in a circle), a small balcony opened, revealing the rolling fields of grass and blooming apple blossoms stretching beyond the horizon. Opposite the arc of the balcony was a large wooden door inlaid with iron reinforcements to lend a secure if not menacing atmosphere to the chamber.

The elderly man beckoned the woman follow him to the ledge. Though she feared heights, his insistence assured her as she took his hand and hopped gracefully down onto the overhang. The view expanded as the lake to the west shimmered seductively in the now setting sun.

"It is the beauty of nature which inspires man. The beauty of a prancing fawn, a windswept leaf, the melodies of the morning birds and the harmonies of the evening crickets," the elderly man breathed as he closed his eyes to the shades of nature. The youth watched as his other sense began to take over. The twitch of his nose, the flicker beneath his eyelid following the surrounding hum.

Following his lead, she closed her eyes. She could still see the glowing underside of her eyelid, but she concentrated on other senses. The first to come into sharp focus was that of smell as intensifying aromas gathered around her. She could distinctly make out the consuming ashiness, no doubt made by a traveling commoner passing the trail to the village. A breeze swept by carrying the lovely scent of lilac on its shoulders. Quite a mixture, yet strangely satisfying in its effect. Abruptly, she gasped as the scents swirled through her head, infecting with suffering and soothing with relief simultaneously.

Her eyelids fluttered open as light flooded her vision. She could just make out the trees in the distance and the flash of a stray horse. It took but a moment for her to realize her solitude. She hesitantly turned back towards the inner tower where she discovered the man leaning against the pillar staring at her, or possibly through her.

"When you closed your eyes, what did you see?"

"I?" the man asked. "I saw nothing that pertains to the moment at hand. No, my dear," he straightened at his words, "the question is what did you see?"

_A frail, bound woman waded to the middle of a pond. As she reached the center, the water transformed into lavender flames._

The mixture of ash and lilac intensified beyond comfort. "It was an innocent woman burning at the stake," she answered. Unconventional emotion poured through her. It wasn't pity for the creature; it was a vengeance for the tortured soul that would suffer for the crimes against innocent.

The elderly man smiled with a slight chuckle. "Are not they all." It was less of a question than a statement.

She nodded in understanding. "Which one did you experience?"

"I have always been able to hear my surroundings more clearly," he pondered. "However, I have been partial to sight. For me, hearing the rippling of the creek does not compare to witnessing the swirls of the ripples as the pebble floats down into its depths." He stared at her in contemplation once again, only this time she could sense a warmth in her face.

Then, he stepped back and off to the side, extending his hand to her once more. She took it and stepped away from nature and back into the turret. He took the clasp of the door handle and wrenched it open with clear effort. The scent of spices and herbs filled her lungs as she entered the room. The youth gasped in wonder as she beheld the sights laid out before her. The tower itself stretched above their heads yet another story, the pointed tip of it reaching more than twenty feet. Bookshelves lined the stone walls, completely filled with various leather-bound volumes and loose parchment jutting out from between books. A single ladder rolled in front of the bookshelves on a metal rod circling just above the shelves. A second landing of a hollowed circle raced across the tops of the bookshelves where a wooden railing lined the outer rim, opening ever few feet where the revolving ladder could lead to the upper landing. A mural of parchment depicting different animals, plants, and herbs plastered the stone wall and wooden tables. Hanging from the rafters were different skeletal structures of birds and other flying creatures as if in mid-flight. In the center of the chamber, an ensemble of tables and chairs circled a beautiful metal contraption in the middle of the room. Set on a specially designed column, an intricate apparatus of spheres and circlets revolving around an onyx orb.

"The ladder is of my own creation," the old man indicated with his index finger. "A rather practical instrument I hope will be used for further generations."

The woman did not reply. She began walking toward the device. Once she was close enough to touch it, the old man placed his hand upon her shoulder.

"A marvelous implement." He pulled her gently from it. "Yet I do not feel you are able to comprehend its power."

She did not resist, yet she could not forget the presence of the apparatus. Her attention turned to the books. Leaving the man behind her, she strode over to a shelf, eyeing the bindings hungrily. She turned back to the old man. The smile had returned to his face as he nodded his approval. She returned his smile and returned to the books, lifting a dark leather book from a top shelf.

The elderly man hobbled next to the women. Looking over her shoulder, his eyes quickly grazed the bounded parchment.

"Interesting," he whispered more to himself than the youth. He turned from her and walked back to the center of the room where he gingerly sank into a chair. The old man continued to examine the young woman as she devoured the book in her hand. He could see her mind turning and asking questions within it. He observed as she closed the book against her bosom and raced towards the ladder. With the agility of youth, she scaled the ladder with ease and began sifting through jars and herbs. The old man sat in silence as she darted from text to herbs, mumbling incoherent words.

Not an hour passed when she finally closed the book and descended the ladder. She returned the text to its proper place before rejoining the old man at the center of the room. Night had fallen as the fireplace glowed and soft shadows danced about the old man's face. He had moved his chair closer to the fire when the youth sat at his feet. Even in the firelight he noticed her flushed cheeks and the frustration laden in her face.

"What is the matter, child?" he asked.

She did not answer his inquiry promptly or with a proper answer. "You saw what I was reading," was her reply.

The old man chuckled though a smile did not appear across his lips.

She twisted onto her knees as she gazed up into his eyes clutching his robes. "You have the knowledge to restore youth. You essentially have the secret to immortality."

"That I do," he nodded in agreement.

"Why do you not use it?"

The old man once again stared down at the woman with his eyes seeming to penetrate her soul. "You know of the power that has been bestowed upon instruments of magic such as myself. You tasted the extraordinary sensation only too briefly. To see what is yet to come does not compare to what you were just now seeking. Magic, prophesy, alchemy, all of it is to be feared not used as instruments of power. In order to be an enchanter, you must be the instrument of power. You cannot seek to control the gift, you must let it control you. If the gift of immortality were to be given to man, it surely would have been given during the beginning of creation. As it is, immortality could only harm those who attain it."

"How so?" the young woman questioned placing her chin upon his knee.

"Consider the amount of memories, thoughts and ideas which would eventually build up within the mind. I doubt the human mind is capable of containing such an amount of information and knowledge without eventually corrupting itself. A complete destruction of the mind would ultimately take over and the thrill of immortality would become redundant."

This, however, did not satisfy the youth.

"You disagree with my conclusion?" the man asked.

"No, I agree completely with everything," she answered. "Yet I cannot fathom why you could not use this knowledge to temporarily restore your youth to assist Arthur in his crusade. The realm still needs, and always will need, its enchanter."

"Restoring my health, even temporarily, would not change the fate of Arthur's campaign."

"But you are considerably more valuable," the young woman whispered, turning to watch the flames dwindle.

"Who is it to decide?"

"I am," she breathed. He could see the pool of tears forming at the corner of her eye as a single slid down her face and onto her robes. A spasm in his stomach gave the old man the courage to place his hand against her cheek, wiping the track of the tear. He shifted in his chair to slither down onto his knees cradling her flushed face.

"You are not to decide," he soothed.

"Just this once," she begged softly clutching his hand, "could you spoil me?" Then, she lifted her head and pressed her lips against his. The twinge the old man had felt earlier exploded within him as a wave of heat radiated from him. He could feel it expanding to his head and felt it transfer from his lips her hers. The young woman whimpered from ecstasy as the intensity of the heat gradually heightened. They parted only to become entangled with an embrace.

"What can I give?" he asked.

"Tell me what you saw earlier. What was your vision?" she pulled out from under his arms.

_A single shaft of light penetrated the otherwise all-consuming darkness that as his tomb. He knew he would forever be trapped within this cave. From behind, he sensed the surge of power as a captivating glow of violet issued. He followed his senses to a small underpass. Reaching the end of the cramped tunnel, he crawled into a cavern. From all around, luminous crystals of indigo encased his vision. Yet, in the center of the cave, a single column of pure quartz rose. As he moved closer, shapes began to take form from within, and he watched as a young woman wrapped in deep emerald robes straddled a large mare as a large man dressed in sleek armor rallied his forces together. The man glanced at the young woman. She nodded to him before returning to a state of regality. The old man felt a tear roll silently down his cheek. He was finished, and she was just beginning. He slumped to the floor. Lying his head on a comfortable spot of earth, he gazed upward at the crystal as the edge of his vision darkened, a smile of content etched on his lips. _

The old man returned to this world. He was aware his eyes had been glazed as he waited for his vision to clear revealing the still tear stained beauty watching him. He smiled at her before answering, "I saw my death."

She gaped at his calm demeanor. "How-how can you live with such knowledge?" she questioned with a hoarse voice.

"Because death is an eventuality. Something all men must confront." The old man with his infinite wisdom gentle stroked the slender fingers which clutched his forearm. "My death, in particular, is one I look forward to most earnestly."

She withdrew her hand from his touch. "You want to die?"

"My dear, I have lived an incredibly busy life," he sighed. "My death will bring me to a place where I can watch lives unravel and be content that the lives I see before me will from and shape a world I was destined never to see. I will die knowing what is happening around me, but be unable to interfere with it. It is I peace I have never known."

The young woman began to tear once more, but a smile expressed the joy she felt. "Something you deserve above all others," she said with a small chuckle. She clenched the front of his robes, pulling him down to her. He smiled as she pressed her lips to him.

The woman felt the old man tremble slightly beneath her touch. She released her grasp on him and opened her eyes. His long, silver bread retracted into his jaw as the wispy hairs on his head thickened into raven locks. His bones became less brittle as his shoulders widened and muscle returned. His face smoothed except for the creases in the corners of his eyes, caused by the beaming smile he gave her.

"It will be wonderful to feel the freshness of youth once more," he said, "if only for tonight."

The young woman's smile widened as she advanced on him to bury herself in his robes.


End file.
